Shadows Lurk
by Halter
Summary: Roy was having a relatively peaceful night of paperwork when he decided to go for a walk on a stormy night. What he finds astounds him, but what really happened? And how will his life change? Will anyone ever be the same? Read inside! Rated M for obvious reasons. RoyEd recovery fic.
1. Chapter 1: Stormy Night

**_WELCOME MY LOVELIES TO MY FIRST FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST FFANFIC! _****If you people know me, its probably from my scattered Homestuck fanfics, but I am branching out. I thought, hey, FMA is pretty much the gateway drug of the Anime/manga universe, so I might as well. As usual, this is rated M. Because there's definetly lots of Mness in here.**

**About this fic! There will be tons of triggers, rape, self harm, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, lots of swearing, guy on guy, please, if this triggers you, don't read! Expect chapters to be attempted 1500-3000 words, except this first chapter I suppose.**

**This takes place in the mangaverse, not Brotherhood, so calm the Frick crack down people. Also, it takes place in an alternate universe, so it's not going to be canon at all! It takes place after they discover the homunculi, but before anything went truly insane in the manga. This is a RoyEd fic, even though it is not my OTP. Lots of hurt/comfort in here, and yeah. Don't expect frequent updates, please! Senior year and all that jazz, and I do occasionally need sleep, I am human. So here ya go, my new fic, Shadows Lurk!**

The night was dark outside Colonel Roy Mustang's window. Rain sloshed against the panes, thunder cracked, and the mood was dank. Mustang was home alone, working on paperwork Riza Hawkeye had sent him home with. His head rested in his strong, gloved hands, hair peeking out around his fingers. 'Coffee isn't enough to get me through tonight,' he grumbled to himself in his mind.

As always, his mood was foul, especially while doing paperwork. He had already drained probably four pots of coffee, and it was only two a.m.: he was tired, grumpy, and ready for this night to be over. He still had several stacks of things to sign, though, and he knew it would be several hours at least before he would be done with it all. He would sleep now, but Riza, he was sure, would shoot him. And if he fell asleep on the papers in front of him, he would almost certainly drool on the papers, and these were official documents.

Groaning, he yanked himself upright, heading to brew a new pot of coffee. Stumbling into the kitchen, he thought for a moment he heard a tap at the door, but he figured it was just his mind playing with him. Listening for another sound, but hearing none, he slid a new filter in the machine, dumped in double the amount of grounds so that it would be extra strong, and rested his head against the cool granite counters.

As a military official, he needed to keep up appearances, such as a giant house with several bathrooms and bedrooms, even though he lived alone, and a sprawling floor plan that included a huge back yard with an in-ground pool. The place was too big for a twenty nine year old bachelor like him, but he didn't care. The place was paid for, and while he didn't use three quarters of the space, it gave him a place for peace and quiet.

That is, until the Elric boys had invaded his life.

The younger brother, Alphonse, was merely a suit of armor, a happenstance that was explained to him a while ago, not that he remembered much from the explanation at the moment, being exhausted. The older brother, Edward... Mustang sighed breathily. The boy awoke in him feelings that just shouldn't be there. All he wanted to do was run his fingers through that soft, golden hair, staring into the deep golden eyes, full of fire.

The boy had him smitten, and he didn't care to admit it to anyone else. Especially since he was pretty sure that the youth hated him, after all, his favorite nickname for the Colonel was any variation of the word 'bastard.' Mustang sighed, knowing it was no use mulling over these thoughts, but as usual, his mind ran away from him. He recalled nearly every moment Edward had been in his presence. Of course, the young man couldn't stand to even be in the same room with him three quarters of the time, and even Mustang had to admit, he was a huge dick to the boy.

As soon as he had met Edward, Mustang knew there was more than just the feelings of a superior towards a subordinate inside him for Ed. His presence set his heart racing, and any proximity made him want to reach out and hold the boy in his arms, never letting go.

With a groan, Mustang looked at the pot, then grabbed his jacket. He hated the rain; in fact, Ed tended to describe him as a hydrophobic pyromaniac with a God Complex, but he needed to clear his mind of these thoughts, and a walk in the rain would do just that. He set his gloves on the kitchen table, not wanting to dampen them outside on this story evening. He trudged his way to the door, and when he opened it wit a yawn, his jaw remained open, looking at his doorstep.

He definitely HAD heard a tap earlier, because curled on his doorstep was a small, golden blonde figure, shivering. It was obviously Edward Elric, except his braid was frayed and cut half off, and his automail was ripped in too many places to count, his clothes all but gone as they were torn so much. All Mustang could see covering the boy was blood, blood, and more blood. Dear god, how long had he been out here? The boy was trembling, and it sounded as though he was sobbing: Mustang hoped not. He didn't think he could handle a crying Edward. He kneeled down next to the boy, wanting to take him inside, but not wanting to cross any unknown boundaries. His voice cracked more than he wanted it to as he breathed the boy's name, mortified at his state.

"Edward?"

**Alright, so anyone who reviews each chapter will get a shout out in this paragraph in the next chapter. I love reviews, I love input, and I love just everything anyone would ever mention to me! I apologize for the short chapter, but it needed to happen to get things on the road. Now, I think I'm going to try keeping up more than one fic at a time, so bear with me if updating gets crazy. I look forward to seeing you all next chapter! No real triggers here, but they will be coming up in future chapters.**

**R&amp;R, please!**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**

**((EDIT! I JUST REALIZED I PUT HOMOPHOBIC NOT HYDROPHOBIC. OOPS. FIXED IT THERE THOUGH.))**


	2. Chapter 2: Flayed Skin

**Hey guys so yep I'm updating! Don't expect such fast updates usually, but they will happen semi frequently. I forgot to say last chapter, I DONT OWN FMA EVEN THOUGH I WISH I DID! Beware, this chapter has some pretty GRAPHIC DEDCRIPTIONS as well as some PRETTY INTENSE GORE! Dont read if you can't handle, I don't wan to be triggering anyone. Here ya go, chapter 2! And yes, I made a plot chart for this story, actually. O.O**

SHADOWS LURK, CHAPTER 2

The young boy groaned, attempting to move. A whimpering half scream escaped his throat as he attempted to move, and Mustang put his hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Don't move, Fullmetal. You'll hurt yourself." All he got in response was another groan and a whine. It was obvious the boy was in horrible pain, and it struck Mustang to his very soul. Edward Elric wasn't weak, he never cried, not in pain at least, so whatever had happened must have been horrible to have him shaking like this.

Mustang pulled off his jacket, draping it over Ed's body, the blood on his skin smearing with the rain and soaking into the jacket, but Mustang didn't care. He needed to help Ed, and it didn't matter to him that the jacket might get blood on it. Ed would probably die if he didn't do anything. That thought strengthened Mustang's resolve, and quickly he scooped the youth up into his arms, ignoring the shrieks of protest from the frail frame, carrying him inside. Gently as he could, Mustang laid him down on the suede couch, regardless of the staining that was now occurring. Slowly, he pulled the jacket away, dreading what he would see when he saw Ed's body, and he was right to. Curses flowed freely from his mouth as he took in Ed's broken visage.

There was gravel and dirt ground into his skin, embedded in the flesh like some sadistic painting. Cuts covered his skin, some deeper than others, and blood seeped freely from them, but not enough to kill him. Mustang thanked whatever deity existed for small favors, then went back to his evaluation. Thick, dark blood stained the boy's thighs, and his normally golden hair was matted and dirty, nearly brown, and there were patches missing, and others short and chopped sloppily. There were bruises forming on his arms, and over his left eye. The poor kid had a gash down his cheekbone, so deep you could see the bone through the wound, and his lip was split open with blood clotting in it. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the eye with a bruise over it was exposed, even though his eyes were closed, exposing a hole in his eyelid through which he could see, to his horror, yellowing eye fluid, but no actual eye.

Tears welled up in Mustang's eyes, and he wiped at them angrily. Whoever did this to Ed was going to pay, and pay heavily, with their lives. Carefully, he removed the tattered remains of Ed's clothing, the black leather pants torn to strips hanging off his skin, the red jacket completely gone, and his white tank top was almost completely missing, with a few scraps sticking to the bloody wounds. Mustang felt the incredible urge to throw up at what had happened to Ed, but he knew he needed to get Ed cleaned up, and soon.

Once Ed was out of the ruined cloth, he gently lifted the boy and carried him to the bathroom. He started the water, making sure it wasn't too hot or too cold, and set Ed down in the water. The youth had passed out from pain a while ago, and he was careful not to hurt the unconscious teenager. Running the water over a washcloth, he deftly began cleaning the wounds, being very careful not to press too hard. Some of the gravel, however, was embedded too deep. He winced at the thought of what he needed to do now. Making sure Ed was okay, he went to his room to grab a pair of tweezers. Instrument in hand, he reentered the bathroom, seeing Ed's eyes - or rather, his one eye - open, panting softly as he sat bare in the tub, fresh tears on his cheeks.

The boy looked up at Mustang's entrance, and Mustang sucked in a breath at the sight. There was yellow-white liquid oozing from his left eye socket, and it was obvious that his eye was gone. His one good eye fared no better in Mustang's opinion, for as he looked into Ed's eye, his normally gold, fierce eye, he saw nothing. The color was dull, lifeless, and broken. The fire that had always been so apparent in the young alchemist was completely gone: the boy looked like an empty shell, a shadow of his former self. As Mustang looked between the two eyes, his heart was aching for this boy. One eye gone, abused nearly beyond recognition, and obviously broken. That was the best word to describe Fullmetal now, Mustang decided. Broken.

Kneeling next to the tub, he put his hand on Ed's human arm, since the automail one had fallen off, barely attached when he arrived, somewhere on the way to the bathroom, and his leg as well. Ed flinched away, and looked down at his leg, soaking in the blood saturated water.

"Edward, will you let me clean you up? We don't want these to get infected." At Ed's short, almost imperceptible nod, Mustang turned Ed's back to him, and began removing the rocks from the flesh. The boy didn't even flinch, and Mustang supposed it was because the pain was already so overwhelming. Not to mention the fact that Ed was an extremely resilient person in the first place, so with the continuing lack of reaction, Mustang slowly removed all the gravel, releasing more blood from the naked back. He gently cleaned each new hole revealed in the skin, and made sure they were all void of any dirt before continuing on, plucking all the left over stones from Ed's chest, arm, and leg.

Slowly, he turned Ed's face to his, not wanting to see the broken look again, but he knew he had to clean his eye socket, or it would get infected, and almost certainly kill him. He took a deep breath.

"Edward, I need to clean out your," he hesitated, not wanting to say it, the words stuck in his throat, as if mentioning his lack of an eye would somehow make it real, and right now it wasn't. Instead, he gestured to it, and Ed's good eye closed, the other one with the hole in it sliding down as well. The slight nod came, and Mustang fought back a choke and a retch as he reached for the boys face. Instinctively, Ed pulled back at the touch at first, then resigned himself to letting Mustang touch him, and bit his already punctured lip as the cloth touched his eye socket.

Mustang slid him down in the bathtub so that he could get to the eye better. He knew the eyelid was going to have to be removed as well, but he braced himself as he held the lid open with forceps, planning to do that last. Slowly he filled the empty fissure with water, rinsing out all the yellowing fluid, then grabbed the tweezers: there was pieces of the film on his eye left inside, and he needed to remove them. If he thought the whimpers that Ed was making as he rinsed the crevice were bad, he wasn't prepared for the sound that came next.

As soon as he plucked out the first chunk of eye material, a blood curdling shriek ripped from Ed's lips, his arm flailing, smacking Mustang in the head. Temporarily disoriented, he pinned Ed's arm down, refocusing his eyes. The boy was shaking, back arched, tears welling up in his good eye and inside the hole left by his other eye. The salt water made Fullmetal scream louder, and the sound rocked Mustang. This was Edward Elric, the strong young man, brought low, and it was more than Mustang could bear. He held him down, quickly removing all of what was left of Ed's eye, whispering gently to the young adult writhing in pain underneath him. The sound of Mustang's voice calmed the alchemist slightly, but not enough to make a difference. Mustang grabbed the med kit from under the sink quickly, and set it down, getting the needle and thread ready for stitches.

Mustang bit his lip as he considered what he was about to do. It needed to be done, but there was no guarantee Ed wouldn't hate him for it after it was over with. He shook his head, he needed to do this: no matter what Ed thought of him, this was what the boy needed. He took out the sterile scissors, holding Ed down with his body, pinning his arm carefully under his knee, and took the forceps, pulling the eyelid from the socket gently.

Bracing himself for the agony he was sure to hear in Ed's voice, he cut the thin skin. The boy went quiet, his other eye rolled back, the pain making him pass out again. Thankful for small favors again, Mustang cut the skin all the way off, and sewed up the bleeding flesh.

Gently, he washed Ed's hair, lathering it up as he slid his hands through the younger's soft hair, the soap suds a muddy brown as the grime slowly came out of his hair. When Ed was clean enough and rinsed thoroughly, all traces of blood gone, he lifted him to the toilet lid, where he gently leaned the boy back. Carefully, he sanitized the wounds, applying a healing salve to the tender flesh. It smelt of cool mint, and usually helped sooth irritated skin as well: he had used it many times before, himself. He wrapped the frail Ed in soft white bandages, and stared at his empty eye, trying to decide what to do with it.

He ended up giving it the same treatment, but used skin tape to tape some gauze across the eye, preventing anything from getting inside the tender socket. Gently, he lifted the feather-light (because of the lack of automail, all he had right now was metal sockets where his arm and leg normally attached) boy in his arms, carrying him to his bedroom. Laying Ed on the bed, he rummaged through his dresser, trying to find things that were too small for him, and soon enough had a pair of boxers, sweats, and a flannel shirt for the alchemist. When he turned around, Ed was awake, groaning and shifting on the bed. Mustang walked over, and carefully helped the injured youth get into the clothes. To his surprise, the young man looked up at him, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you, Colonel." Mustang smiled back, tight lipped.

"Any time, Fullmetal," he whispered back, sliding his hand on Ed's forehead, soothing him gently. "Get some sleep. You deserve it." Ed nodded, then frowned.

"But I'm in your bed..." Mustang smiled.

"Yes, and?"

"Well, you should use your bed. I'll sleep in a guest bedroom," Mustang was shaking his head before Ed finished. Even in pain, Ed was thinking of someone else before him.

"No, you can sleep here. I'll be up all night doing paperwork, anyway. Just sleep." Ed tried to protest, but Mustang held up his hand. "That's an order, Major." Ed sighed and grumped, frowning, but snuggled down into the covers anyway, whispering quietly.

"Thank you." Mustang just smiled, tucking his choppy hair back behind his ear, running his fingers through his hair until the male was asleep. He turned and left the room, heading to his office. As he sat and began his work anew, he couldn't seem to keep his mind on the papers. All he could think about was the young alchemist in his bedroom, and he couldn't help but wonder.

What had happened to Ed to crush his spirit so much?

**So what did happen to Ed? It may be a while before you find out. Thank you to the guest who reviewed on the last chapter! Stick around, read and review my darlings!**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	3. Chapter 3: Shadows Behind

**WHAT IS THIS, ANOTHER UPDATE ALREADY? Yeah don't expect this every other day update pattern to continue. I just happen to find time. In this case, it was driving to Montana today for my grandfathers funeral/memorial service... Sad times. Anyway, thank you to the Guest who once again reviewed, I'm assuming you're the same one since you started the review with a colon both times. Yeah Mustang should've taken him to a hospital when he discovered le missing eye, but he knows about Ed's hate of hospitals. So yeah. FUN TIMES! please enjoy my chapter, my friends. Read and Review! Following my plot chart here (for once. I think there's something wrong with me, I never use plot charts. O.O) **

Mustang was just about halfway done with his seemingly never ending stack of paperwork (he was definitely going to give Hawkeye a piece of his mind the next day - or rather later that day, he realized, looking at the clock - when he reached HQ) when an ear piercing scream reached him, and he bolted upright. His reflexes had his gun out of its holster, safety off, creeping down the hallway. Mustang's mind was racing, thinking someone was attacking Ed, since he would know that voice anywhere, especially with every time he heard that shriek not a few hours before. Briefly, he wondered how someone could have gotten past him and into the bedroom without his knowledge, but he shook the thought off. It didn't matter right now how it happened, all that mattered was Ed had already been through agony tonight, and he sure as hell didn't need any more pain.

Mustang paused for a moment outside his bedroom door. There were whimpers and groans coming from the room, and an occasional yelp and whine from just on the other side of the wood. Taking a deep breath, he quickly opened the door, aiming his hand gun at whoever was hurting Ed. Stopping, he stared.

There wasn't anyone in the room except the small boy tossing and turning on the bed, pitiful noises escaping him. His face was contorted into a mask of agony and distress, and just as quickly as Mustang had brought his gun out, he had it back in its holster. He ran quickly to the side of the bed, trying to wake Ed up from his obvious nightmare.

((In Ed's nightmare))

Run_, Ed thought. _I have to run_. The shadows behind him were after him, and they were catching up. Tears streaked down his already damp and bruised face. If they caught him now, he had a feeling all was going to be over. His feet, booted and heavy, slapped on the wet pavement, the sky dark and cloudy, pelting him with water. Every step sent splashes in every direction, dampening his jacket, but he didn't care. He needed to get away. _

_Suddenly, the end of the brick alley he was running down loomed before him, a chain link fence that was ten feet tall blocking his escape. A choked sob wrenched from his lips, he knew he had to make it over it fast, he was tiring and the dark shapes were getting closer. He jumped, and was almost at the top when something grabbed his jacket. He let it fall, sacrificing it to get away. As he started clambering over the top of the fence, his ankle was grabbed and he was falling, head smacking on the pavement. _

_The scene shifted and suddenly his back was against the rough bark of a tree, a meadow stretching out in front of him, rays of the golden sun drifting lazily with the gentle breeze across the blades of grass. A faint smile was on his lips, relaxing with his hands behind his head. With a start, he realized both his arms and both of his legs as well were flesh, not metal. Movement from across the field caught his eye, and as he looked he gasped._

_Al stood there, and his brother's eyes met his. Human eyes. Tears formed in Ed's as he saw his brother smile, and wave at him. The white blonde hair on his head was cropped short to his head, and he looked so... Happy. Al started running towards him, waving his arms and calling "BROTHER!" Ed couldn't speak, and went to stand up._

_As he stood, the ground reached up and grabbed Ed. He looked down, and saw the earth begin to swallow him. He shook his head, this couldn't be happening. Looking up, meaning to call Al for help, he saw his younger brother morph into a shadow like the ones in the alleyway. Ed's heart seemed to stop as the dirt kept him in place, shadow-Al reaching for him with a sadistic smile, ripping at his shirt. _

_Suddenly he was surrounded by shadow versions of all the members of the team. Hawkeye was there, as well as Hughes and Havoc, and all of the rest as well. They parted slightly, and his heart dropped even more as a shadow of Roy Mustang, his commander, walked forward, sneering at the boy. For some reason the boy couldn't fathom, seeing Mustang looking at him with such a sick grin hurt more than it should. The man-shadow approached him, leaning in and in a hoarse, inhuman voice that obviously wasn't the Colonel, growled one word. _

_"Behave," came the gutteral word, and Ed flinched back, only to have his brother grab him hard, and he cried out in pain. He screamed, and the scene moved again._

_He was back in the alley, face ground into the gravel, boots hitting his back, steel toed shoes slamming into the tender flesh of his sides, bones audibly cracking at the cruel abuse._

_This time it shifted quicker, mercifully. He stood in the middle of HQ, the lunch room to be specific. He stood there, head pounding, and he felt hot liquid running down his face. Everyone was hazy, though. No one could see him, and he couldn't hear anyone else either. All he could see was a gray haze all around him, watching people joke and talk, the most relaxed place anywhere in the building. He felt the pain from the abusing men still, and he collapsed to his knees, agony ripping through his aching body. A wavering voice broke through the fog at that moment._

_"Wake up! Fullmetal!" He looked up, recognizing the voice, seeing Mustang walking towards him in full uniform. "Please, Fullmetal!" Ed's eyes were unfocused, the words not quite reaching him. He looked up, and the white glove came off, a bare hand reaching for him. When it made contact with his cheek, he looked up. Mustang's face was right there, and the contact and the whispered words he spoke made the scene dissolve._

_"Edward, wake up please." _

_The world went black_.

((End nightmare))

Mustang held the hand of the boy, shaking him and trying to wake him up.

"Wake up! Fullmetal! Please, Fullmetal!" He was growing desperate. The abused face in front of him had tears running in rivulets down, frozen in a mask of pain. He took a chance, touching his cheek gently with his bare skin as he attempted to revive the pained alchemist from his nightmare, and whispered softly.

"Edward, wake up please," and he lay his head on the youth's chest. A groan escaped the lips of the boy, and he shot up, ready to attempt to wake him up again, but stopped as his one amber eye - dead looking, and devoid of any sort of life and drive to exist, Mustang noted - blinked open sluggishly, and a cracked, broken voice choked out a confused sounding word.

"Mustang?" Ed asked quietly. The Colonel took his hand again, nodding softly and hugging the frail boy to himself. Ed adjusted uncomfortably, and Mustang pulled back, making sure not to hurt him. "Where am I?" The boy whispered, and Mustang smoothed his hair back gently.

"My house. You showed up a few hours ago," he said caringly. "What exactly happened, Ed? You were pretty torn up." Ed shook his head looking at his hands, and Mustang sighed, knowing he wasn't getting any answers out of him yet. Ed blinked up at him, his eye still not very well focused. Ed was super out of it, he could tell. He gently petted the boy's forehead, comforting him. Ed looked slightly confused.

"Why aren't I at a hospital? Most people would have taken me there..." Ed said with a frown. Mustang shrugged, not stopping his hand as it played with the soft hair.

"I know how much you hate hospitals. I know I should, if just because of how beaten up you were, but I knew you would have hated it so much... I wanted to wait until you woke up to ask if you wanted to. If not, I can take care of you decently here." Ed looked up with a grateful smile.

"Thank you. You're right, I wouldn't be able to stand being in a hospital. Your bed is really comfortable." Ed grinned softly, but the smile didn't reach his eye. The smile turned to a deep frown as a small hand reaches up to the gauze over his left eye. His good eye was focusing now, no longer halfway asleep. "Mustang, why can't I see out of this eye? Why is it dark?" Before he could respond, the boy ripped the bandage off, and gasped, his voice in unfathomable emotional pain.

Mustang glanced at his hands, not wanting to tell him the news, but knowing he needed to know. "Your eye is gone... I'm so sorry Edward, but it was nearly gone as it is when you got here, but you were incoherent and in a lot of pain. I'm not surprised you don't remember," he said with a frown. "I had to dig out the rest of it so it wouldn't get infected, and, well, you can see the result." He looked up at Ed, wincing as he met the boy's eye and the dark hole that was left in place of his other eye.

"I..." Ed started, then rolled over. "Thank you for waking me up, but... I can't handle this right now."

"I know, Edward. I'm so sorry." Ed rolled back to him, and gave him a sad little smile that made Mustang wonder even more what happened that hurt this normally fiery young man in such a way.

"Can you help me to the bathroom?" He asked, a defeated tone underlaying his voice. "I can't make it without my automail." Mustang nodded and lifted him up easily, Ed's good arm wrapping around Mustang's neck, whimpering, and he carried the alchemist to the bathroom, setting him on the toilet.

"Can you..?" Ed nodded.

"Yeah I'll call for you when I'm done," the small voice replied. Mustang nodded, then looked at him, pain running like elephants through his heart at the sight of the broken youth.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," Mustang whispered, then left the room, locking the door behind him.

**so this is obviously going to be RoyEd, but idk yet if there's gonna be any smut. Probably, but you never know. Also, I know what happened to Ed, but you guys get to stay in suspense and guess for a few more chapters mwahahahaha. Let me know how I'm doing, please!**

**Also, I'm taking a break from Homestuck fics for a while. FMA is currently my fave fandom, and hells yes I'm going to cosplay Mustang. Uniform is in the mail, and I am so pumped. I'll post pics on my tumblr (im-a-fangirl-isthat-a-bowiebulge) when it arrives. Guys, if you review, I will shout out! I'm not going to abandon a fic, so you can get invested here. I'm thinking of starting a new one at the same time, but idk. I'll have to decide if I think I can handle it. Anyway, leave me a review please!**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	4. Chapter 4: Pained Thoughts

**O.O another fast update?! Yes! Angels are singing right now at this glorious occurrence! Trumpets are playing! Miracles are real! It is the Promised Day! Just kidding you guys UwU but seriously, I wrote two nights in a row, I feel accomplished. Anyway, trigger happy Meghan is going to give you SELF HARM TRIGGERS in this chapter, as well as hints at sinister occurrences and trauma being inflicted on a poor youth named Ed. Guest reviewer, you make me happy! But why don't you have an account? It would make me so happy to be able to talk back and forth with you. But in response, yes the intention is to keep you in suspense about who it was and what happened. Of course no smut until at least he is less traumatized, that would be horrible if not. I just am not sure if i want any smut in this yet, or if iwant to focus on the romance and comfort, or if i wanna throw in some sexy times. And yes, eye patch is going to be coming! **

**The rest of all y'all, ye should review! I wanna hear from you, my darling readers! You can flame me even (of course if Mustang would flame me, I would enjoy that so much more (/u/) because you know what I mean by flame, darlings), I just want feedback! Tell me if you enjoy it, or if you hate it, I don't care. I just want to hear from you! Give me idea for plot points and shit too, because while I have a general outline, there's wiggle room to add or change this sucker up. Anyway, I'm rambling now. Longest chapter yet! So much excite! R&amp;R PLEASE!**

Ed sat on the toilet, unsure what to do. He really didn't need to use the bathroom, he just wanted some alone time, and he knew the Colonel was more likely to leave him to do his business than anything else at this moment. His hand snuck up his face again, touching just beneath the raw eye socket. Ed sighed, and bit his lip.

Everything was so disorienting to him, and almost seemed flat, lifeless. Without the separate perspective of his left eye, everything seemed fake. Nothing had depth, even as he looked down at his hand, and he felt almost like he was looking at a cartoon world where everything was one-dimensional. He couldn't quite believe he lacked an eye now as well as an arm and a leg, but he knew it was. Looking around at the spacious room, he sighed again.

The world lacked any sort of interest to his dead view. Everything seemed gray, pointless after what had happened. Ed would never admit it out loud, but he knew he was broken. He felt slimy, defeated, worthless. He could feel the bastards' hands all over him still, his empty eye still felt as if the thumb was cruelly pressing in, the pressure hellish until a squish was felt and heard. Ed closed his eyes, squinching them, refusing to remember what he had been through.

Still he could feel those seeking, ruddy hands on him, face in the rough rocks on the alley ground. A tear leaked from his good eye, and he cursed himself for crying, even though that's all he wanted to do: curl in on himself, and stop existing, dissolve into a puddle of salty tears that would never be mistaken for a human.

Briefly, Ed wondered why he had even bothered to drag himself to Mustang's house. At that moment, he wished he had just sat in the dank alleyway, bleeding out slowly and rotting away. He knew he was just a burden at this point. He swore at himself under his breath again, thinking about how much of a bother he was being. Mustang had work to do, work for which Hawkeye would shoot him if he didn't complete. Then Ed had just shown up, on the edge of life, and ruined his entire night.

What was even worse was that the bastard hadn't even just let him clean himself. He had to go ahead and help more, fixing Ed's wounds, and concerned himself with trying to get Ed on the path to recovery. More tears pricked at Ed's eyes as he thought about how much he was affecting the Colonel. He knew just how worthless he had always been now, thinking back over the time he had worked for the man.

Ed thought about how much he constantly complained about his superior, being a general major pain in the ass. The man had helped him get his State certification, and he had repaid him with nothing but insults and disrespect. All Ed did was get himself into trouble that the bastard had to get him out of, screwing up with his hot headedness, putting everyone in danger.

Ed hunched over, thinking about just how useless he was. He couldn't even get his brother's body back, no matter what he tried or how often he promised. Al always said he was fine, and told him how much he loved him, but Ed knew now how much hate he must hold against him. He could hear Al's voice condemning him for his mistakes in his head, words the younger brother had never said, but Ed knew he was thinking.

"Brother, why have you failed me?"

"You've screwed up so much, I don't know why I bother listening anymore."

"It's all your fault I'm like this."

"Mom died because of you, and you couldn't even bring her back!"

"You ruined my life, and you didn't even succeed."

"Why haven't you gotten my body back yet, Brother?"

"You might as well die, it would save everyone so much trouble."

"You're never going to be able to get my body back when you can't even defend yourself!"

"Why couldn't you be stuck like this instead, since it was your fault?"

Ed hunched over more and more as every sentence screamed through his head, and he knew Al would never forgive him. He should have just died in that alley. He had shown up and ruined Mustang's night, and even after the man had helped him to bed, he had fucked up even more.

He had pulled Mustang away from his paperwork again with his pitiful nightmare, and the man had come running to see what was wrong. He couldn't do anything right! He should be dead!

Ed buried his hand in his hair, agony ripping through him as he realized that the men in that alley had used him for the only thing he was good for, to be played with and left to die. Letting them have fun with him as they did had been the one thing he ever did right for anyone. He brought his hand to his face, feeling the tears on his cheek, and hissed as the salty liquid pooled into his raw eye socket. Softly he probed the wound, wiping out the water as he grit his teeth in pain.

A sudden urge to see what it looked like overcame him, but at the same time he didn't want to see. Ed knew that if he saw the empty hole, that it would make it real. Without seeing what had happened, he could remain in denial and believe his eye wasn't actually gone. He knew it was irrational to believe that maybe it was all in his head, but it was the only hope he could cling to. Still, he knew he needed to see for himself.

Groaning, Ed dragged himself with his one good arm to a standing position, balancing on one leg. Grabbing the sink counter, he started inching his way over, the strength of muscle in his arm working well for him as he pulled his way to the counter. When he reached it, he sagged in relief against the granite countertop, only to moan in pain as his abused ribs hit the stone. Shit, he forgot he busted his ribs. The pain engulfing his torso quickly reminded him, though, and he quickly pulled himself upright again, gasping in agony. That's when he realized the mirror was right before his face. Hesitantly, the alchemist looked up at his reflection.

Fuck. He had forgotten for a moment about his eye being gone, but the reality of the situation hit him with his reflection, feeling like a boot to the gut just like earlier. The black recess in his face was like a slap to the face, and he felt himself wincing from his reflection. There was a green and purple broken ring around his eye, and he remembered the fist that had connected high on his cheekbone before the thumb had dug into the sensitive socket. Ed's jaw fell open at the lack of anything to the left of his nose. He noticed the carefully executed stitches through the top area, just beneath his brow bone, and knew Mustang had fixed up the eyelid, or rather, the lack of one. Ed grit his teeth as he realized that he not only lacked an eye now, but a lid as well. Gazing at the pit in his face, he knew that he couldn't walk around like that. Mustang had it covered with gauze before, and he'd have to use that until he could find an eye patch to cover the chasm.

Ed realized his mouth was still open, seeing with a flinch that several of his teeth were missing, no doubt due to the several kicks to the face he had received. He shook his head again, he wasn't going to recall that now. He didn't want to relive that yet, and knew he probably never would. His soul couldn't take that without crumbling even more than it already had, and instead of thinking back on it, he glanced up to meet his own gaze.

Big mistake, he thought, as his eye focused on its reflection. It was almost worse than the abscess on the other half of his face, and for a second, Ed wanted to dig his other eye out as well. The eye looked back at him, dead. He saw the outward evidence of what he already knew deep inside: the fiery spirit of the Fullmetal Alchemist was gone, replaced with a defeated looking soul, the normally bright, shining honey turned dull and nearly brown, no sign of life visible in the unlit gaze.

Ed knew, then, that Mustang could see just how broken he was. As he gazed now at the full and complete image of himself, all he saw was a tired boy, weary and destroyed by circumstance. His once flawless gold hair was now flat, chopped short in places, missing in others from where the men had yanked it out, tired lines were forming underneath his one missing and one dead eyes, and he thought to himself that he looked more like an old man, worn down by the world, than a young promising alchemist.

Ed knew that this was what Mustang had seen when he had awoken Ed from his horrid dream, that the look of repulsion he could swear he saw in the Colonel's eyes came from seeing the boy he had recruited look like this. Edward didn't realize that Mustang wasn't repulsed at him, that he was repulsed by the fact that someone could do this to another human, let alone a teen who had already been through so much. All Ed knew was that Mustang had seen him like this, and that thought settled like a rock in his gut, knowing that the older man had seen him at his worst, worse than he had even been the night they had brought into being that... That thing that he wanted so dearly to be his mother.

Ed cried out softly, knowing now just how much he had fucked up this time, by not just rolling over and dying in the rainy alley. He sagged forward onto the counter, tears dripping onto the cold granite. As Ed collapsed to his good arm, he hissed as his finger was cut on something. This just wasn't Ed's night. He pulled his finger to his lips, and looked at the source of the cut. It was Mustang's razor, and he glared at it for a moment.

Ed had never had any use for the infernal tool, having never had an issue with facial hair. As his squeaky voice indicated, he hadn't really reached puberty fully, and his smooth, youthful face didn't grow hair quite yet. Sucking the blood from the pained finger wound, he tensed up slightly. He realized the pain had cleared his mind momentarily, helping him forget what a waste of space he was. Looking back at the razor, Ed had a thought.

Maybe pain wasn't so bad. Maybe if he controlled it, unlike the alleyway, it would be more gentle, clarifying. Ed thought about stories he had heard about people who were into self harm, who used blades on themselves to ease their emotions. He had always thought them crazy, if he was honest with himself. He couldn't understand how physical pain could ease any sort of turmoil, and he had written off the idea as ridiculous, until now. Deftly, he picked up the razor. How easy it would be to slide the cool steel through his skin, he thought. To feel the bite of the sharp edge bringing the blood to the surface, pain nerves firing. The thought alone released a sense of tranquility in his mind.

Making up his mind, Ed quickly tore the plastic parts of the blade apart, and within moments had the four metal parts of the shaving accessory in his hand.

That was when his leg decided it had enough of balancing, and his knee buckled ever so slightly, the material of the sweats dragging across his skin. Deciding he needed to sit, Ed lowered himself to the floor, then pulled himself to the toilet where Mustang had left him. Pushing himself clumsily onto the cool porcelain, he untied the string on the borrowed sweats. Exposing the skin, he pondered how to start with his experimentation before realizing it really didn't matter much.

Quickly, he pressed the familiar seeming edge to his skin, and shallowly sliced open the tender flesh. The burn was immediate, and Ed's eye slammed shut involuntarily at the pain, but the desired affect was achieved. The moment his nerve ending were set on fire, endorphins and adrenaline from the pain released in his brain, the emotional turmoil and memories vanished completely.

Ed's head relaxed back, enjoying the freedom momentarily as a thin line of blood appeared where the metal had cut. Too soon, though, he felt the momentary relief recede, and the emotions that followed in its wake slammed into him.

Quickly, he cut parallel to the previous incision, and the high came again, but weaker, and it disappeared quicker. Frowning, Ed glared at the blade. It wasn't supposed to do less the second time. He shrugged it off though, and decided he just needed to do it deeper, so the next time he brought the now warming razor to his flesh, he pressed harder as he yanked. The release was immediate, and as strong - if not stronger - than the first cut. A trickle of blood slithered down the skin, dripping across the small scabs where the rocks had dug into his leg. At the fast and furious release of the endorphins, Ed decided that each time it weakened, he would have to increase the depth again.

After six or seven more cuts, progressively deeper, he heard boots in the hall. Ed was pulled out of his reverie, a knock coming at the door to the bathroom. He had been in there a long time, long enough for Mustang to be concerned for him and check up on him. Ed cursed under his breath, the last thing he wanted to be was a bother, to have the Colonel worried about him. Another knock, louder this time, came at the door. This time it was accompanied by a soft and very concerned masculine voice, a voice that sent Ed into panic mode that his recent activity with the blade would be discovered.

"Edward, are you alright?"

**I'll be using that now for breaks between authors note and story, or different parts of the story from now on. Makes it more obvious. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it helped me to write it out. My self harm has reared its ugly head again, this time worse than ever, so this was surprisingly therapeutic to write out. This was next in the plot chart anyway, but I think it helped that I was actually in this state of mind while writing it anyway to make it more realistic and emotionally effective. Big reveal of the night is going to come soon! Heh heh heh you will all hate me. **

**Also I had an idea for a new fic, but not about Roy or Ed this time, since everyone always writes about them. It would be about Maes and Gracia, and I kinda wanna write it. But I have a habit of if I begin writing something new while working on something else, I get bored with the first one and it just stops. So I think I'm gonna wait until this is done. **

**Am I getting too long with my authors notes guys? I feel like I'm rambling at this point. Hey, that could be another thing to review about! Seriously guys, review. And my darling Guest, thank you for the honest opinions at the end of each chapter. I look forward to them, please don't stop love! **

**Anyway, keep hanging on here guys. :3 you now have 4 chapters, and this is gonna be at least 20! Please keep reading. It would mean so much to me!**

**Review review review! The more reviews I get, I might make the chapters longer :3**

**ALSO! I HAVE A TUMBLR FOR MY PEN NAME NOW! Check me out on tumblr guys I would so appreciate it! Dexterousduo! Its set up, not super elaborate, but it'll get cooler the more I use it. :3 check it out!**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	5. Chapter 5: Tense Memories

**Heyo! Quick update pattern continuing at least temporarily! Hooray for me and my writing, hooray for the people who are reading! Thank you all who are following this story. Guest my dear, you should get an account so we can talk more than just like this! In any case, I heavily agree with your sentiment, trying to keep moving really is quite realistic, especially since if you aren't doing something, it starts hitting you in flashbacks, and sucks royally. Pale-blue11! I am so enjoying talking with you, thank you for reviewing! Jen.666! Thank you for the review! I will definitely continue! **

**Yay, we're getting closer to the big reveal. Teasers towards what happened, and who happened! BOOM! enjoy, darlings.**

**Chapter 5**

Mustang stood outside the door, concerned that something had happened, and was about to open the door when the boy's voice whispered through the door, and Mustang's heart broke even more at the dull tone that came.

"Yeah I'm fine, almost done." Mustang waited patiently as a little bit of shuffling was heard from the other side of the door before the toilet flushed. A second later, the voice came once more, "alright cmon in, I'm done." After a split second, he opened the door to see Ed sitting miserably on the toilet, sweatpants covered leg pulled up to his chest, his arm wrapped around it as his face was buried in the flesh. Mustang noticed absentmindedly that the sweatpants were pulled excessively high, wondering momentarily why he had chosen to hike them up so much, but wrote it off as him being paranoid and chose to ignore the fact. He walked over, and sighed, running his fingers through the broken boy's hair. He knew Ed would never admit it out loud, but he was broken. It didn't help that the youth hated having to accept help in any form, and now he had to rely completely on the older man taking care of him. Mustang put his hand on his shoulder, anger welling up in him from the flinch that Ed responded with, but it wasn't anger at the youth. Oh, no, not at all. This rage building was towards the bastard who had done this to the young man in front of him. Steeling himself, Mustang knelt down and whispered softly to the young alchemist, asking the question that he needed an answer to.

"What happened to you Ed... Who did this, and what did the bastard do?"

Ed looked up from his position wrapped around himself. HW had cleaned up quickly, hiding the broken shaving tool behind the toilet so the colonel wouldn't find it, then cleaned himself with toilet paper and flushed it. Yanking up the pants with his hand and curling in on himself, he had invited the man in. Automatically, he assumed a defensive stance, attempting to discourage any physical contact. The boy felt like utter shit that he couldn't function on his own, and that he was being such a bother to the busy older military official, his superior. The man shouldn't be so concerned over him, in Ed's opinion, and he didn't want to inconvenience him at all.

Reluctantly, though, he realized that the more he let Mustang help, the quicker he could be out of his way. The revelation was helpful, and he found himself wanting, in a way, to be coddled. However, he couldn't stand the thought of someone getting close to him right now, and his thoughts took a darker road at the colonel's whispered question.

"What happened to you Ed... Who did this, and what did the bastard do?" Ed heard the man speak, and he knew he should tell him, but he couldn't. The words held down, deep in his throat, and wouldn't come out. Without thinking, he said the first thing that he could choke out.

"You say bastard like there was only one of them..." Ed didn't catch the rage in the depths of Mustang's eyes at the words, as he spiraled into the edge of a flashback to the night before.

((Le momentary flashback))

Rough nails etched themselves deeply into Ed's skin, dragging bloody, torn lines across the supple flesh. A pained groan escaped his lips, and he felt hands all over him, digging at him, and he felt more of these men than he ever wanted to feel of anyone. A kick slammed into his face, and he hissed in pain.

((End le momentary flashback))

"There were... More than one?" The hesitant reply came, carefully masked in an almost impassive voice, but Ed could hear the unadulterated anger underlying the calm tone. Ed nodded, looking at his hands.

"The main thing I felt was pain, wrought by so many hands, and feet..." He lost himself once more to the darkness of that alleyway.

((Le second momentary flashback))

"Fucking slut. Fucking kid." He heard the voice grate on his ear as the pressure in his skull increased, appendages tearing at his body, but he could only feel one, burning at the forefront of his mind, as a harsh thumb dug into the depths of his eye socket. "How does a fucking kid get higher up on the chain than me?" The voice growled, and a scream tore from Ed's lips as a distinct POP sounded, and agony ripped across his face, momentarily making him pass out, but not before a flash of military blue dragged in the dark on the edge of his darkening vision.

((End le flashback))

Ed gasped, bolting upright, sending Roy stepping back a couple feet.

"Ed, what's wrong?" The concerned voice came, anger forgotten at this reaction from the momentarily unresponsive boy.

"They were... I saw... They said..." Ed's voice cracked harshly and he shook his head. "One was complaining how I was young and higher up on the chain... And I saw blue," he said quietly.

Venom flew through Mustang's veins as he registered what Ed had told him. Military. He had heard some grumbles at HQ that Ed was a Major in the army, higher up than most foot soldiers, even though he was still a minor. A low growl came from him without his bidding, as he thought I've the rumors he knew spread about Ed. Many people believed his talent wasn't enough to get him this far, and they assumed he slept his way in, a theory that made Mustang's blood boil.

His brow furrowed, deep in thought. These were just grumbling foot soldiers, he knew that, but none of them would ever go that far. He folded his hands under his chin on the cold bathroom sink board, thinking to himself. This had to go higher up than just the regular soldiers. He was pondering that thought when a sob yanked him out of his reverie. Ed was crying, and instantaneously, he was by the younger's side, soothing him.

"Can you tell me anything else, Ed?" He asked gently, but the boy shook his head.

"Not now, I can't... I- it hurts... I don't. I can't," he broke of into another whimper before wiping his eyes softly, wincing when his finger slid slightly into the empty socket as he had momentarily forgotten about his lack of eye. "I'm sorry Colonel, I can't yet... Please don't push it," he begged the older man, who stopped. He nodded, the pleading voice rocking him to the core. Ed didn't ask for anything.

"Alright, Ed. Don't think about it. Breathe," he said, a tight lipped smile twitching his mouth, insincere but he knew Ed needed assurance that he didn't need to continue. When the boy nodded, Mustang gently pried the boy's hands from his face. "I'm gonna fix up your eye again, alright? Then we can go eat breakfast." Ed scoffed softly, an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

"I hope we're going out, because I would rather not die of whatever you make. I just survived death once, I don't need another close encounter," he shot at the older man. Mustang smirked at the small frame in front of him.

"Nope, I'm making food. I'm a pretty good cook, I'll have you know." Ed rolled his eyes at the Colonel's words.

"Mustang, carbon doesn't count as food," he said snidely, glad for the distraction. Mustang stuck his tongue out playfully, enjoying the banter they were having, misinterpreting it as a sign of a bit of recovery. He laughed out loud at the boy.

"You're going to eat those words. Literally," he stated, and at Ed's sarcastic eye roll, he sighed. "Alright just let me clean you up, okay? Then you can judge my cooking."

Another hesitant nod had Mustang carefully swabbing the inside of the crevice, and applying the cool salve. When the minty ointment made contact with Ed's eye, he relaxed visibly, and a small genuine smile graced the colonel's lips. He knew how relieving the smear was for any tender flesh. Once he had finished, he redid the gauze over the missing eye, then lifted the boy effortlessly, and glided down the stairs to the kitchen table (where his gloves were still sitting from the night before) and setting him in a chair. As the younger alchemist got settled in, Roy whisked around the kitchen to grab ingredients to make the best breakfast Ed had ever had, just to prove the young adult wrong. He bad eaten constantly all night, so this was all for Ed. He glanced over at the boy who looked like he was doing all he could to not fall asleep, and he realized he probably was. He knew from his post traumatic stress from the Ishbalan War that during sleep, like the night before, nightmares can ruin your mind and emotions, and make you dread the time when you needed rest. The boy had just gone through a horrible trauma and Mustang knew the pervasive terror would follow him in sleep for a long while more.

Soon enough, the food was done and he slid it in front of the nearly unconscious boy, who perked up at the smell, and poured him some coffee as well. Very quickly, the food was in his mouth, and Mustang grinned.

"Woah there, Mr. Food Critic. If you're gonna be judging my cooking, you should at least taste the food." Ed glared back and spoke through a mouthful of toast and egg, spraying crumbs everywhere.

"Sgood," he mumbled, then went back to scarfing down the food. With a laugh, Mustang watched, then wondered abruptly how Alphonse could make enough food for the idiot boy.

He groaned and smacked himself in the forehead. His brother! How could he have forgotten Ed's brother who needed to know his elder sibling had been attacked? Mustang vaguely recalled him speaking of a trip to Resembool planned soon. He smiled softly, realizing that this was perfect. Winry was Ed's mechanic, and resided in Resembool. Of course Al would cone straight home to take care of his brother, and he could bring the girl with! She could replace his automail, which all he had left of was the ports sautered into his skin, and it would definitely help Ed in the area that he could feel like he didn't need help as much, at least to move around. As he thought about the call he needed to make, Mustang realized that there was another person he needed to face as well, one who wouldn't be okay with his incomplete paperwork.

Riza Hawkeye.

He groaned and shoved his face in his hands before perking up, realizing that he could use Ed's appearance as an excuse, and a damn good one at that. However, the thought of Ed's condition dragged his face back down. He had to tell the team what happened, and they wouldn't like it at all. Plus he needed to launch an investigation into who it was... Mustang shook his head. He'd call in, and give them a vague description of what was going on. Ed's health was most important. Speaking of which, he looked up at the youth, and met an empty, yet somehow bemused expression focused on him, and he realized he hadn't been covering his emotions well. He glared at the boy, nervous about showing that much emotion in front of him.

"What, Elric?" He snapped, probably too harshly, then added, "Never seen a thought process before?"

"Not on you," the boy snickered, covering up an obviously hurt look from my rough inquiry, and I stood to leave.

"There's a few phone calls I need to make. Eat up and relax, Edward." I said as I walked out, dreading my next course of action.

These calls were not going to be fun.

**I just realized there may be some confusion... I made a comment last chapter that I would use those to distinguish from authors notes, yet nothing actually frikkin was there. Fanfic don't like me, guys. so I'm hoping my new one actually stays. Hooray. Anyway, keep following this shit, cause it's only gonna get more intense. I had more to say, but I can't remember. R&amp;R guys! I wanna hear from you darlings! Don't be afraid to voice your opinion on this :3 I want feedback. Am I writing broken Ed well? Ladeedah, just gimme feedback guys. I love you all.**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	6. Chapter 6: Burning Calls

**Hey guys! Updating! Yay! Sorry, I actually had this done on Wednesday night/Thursday morning, but Thursday my new Beta had it! And she's the most spectacularly amazingly awesome Beta ever! Pale-blue11 I love you so much! And Friday-Today I was at my girlfriend's house for Valentine's day! Dance Dance Revolution for the win! Anyway, thanks for being patient and waiting for my madness XD R&amp;R please! I love hearing from you! And now, the new chapter in which burnage and phone calls and breakdowns, with hints of AlWin! Yay!**

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

CHAPTER 06

The metal hinges on the door creaked loudly as Mustang entered the study, closing the door behind him carefully as he made his way to the desk, plopping down on the comfortable seat. He rested his face in his hands, hesitant to pick up the phone. The turmoil raging inside him over the broken state of his subordinate (and the male he had fallen for) and the situation in which he was caught was a churning tempest of the wildest sort, flooding through him as he thought about it. The men were obviously military, and that thought burned hate through his veins, made his stomach flip flop in a very unpleasant way.

Mustang felt the overwhelming urge to burn something - anything - before he lifted the phone. His hands itched to create an inferno of the hellish variety, to incinerate the perpetrator of the violence done to Edward. Mustang didn't even know the specifics, all he knew was the boy wasn't walking away from this without scars (and he had a strong feeling that once he knew the specifics, he was going to wish he didn't ask).

His lip caught between his teeth, bone digging into flesh as he stood, pacing around the room in a rage, in a way that he had been holding back so he wouldn't terrify or push away Ed. He let his anger loose in the furious movements of his legs, but it wasn't enough. Walking to the large fireplace, he slid on his white ignition gloves, a sadistic smirk on his face. Mustang knew just how he was going to let this out in a healthy way.

There was more than one reason he made sure all the rooms were soundproofed when he purchased the dwelling.

His eyes narrowed, and he let all his fury flow into the murderous glare, transitioning all his hate to the wood sitting innocently in the brick alcove. Red flooded across his vision as he imagined the inconspicuous logs resting in the niche, rage racing across his skin as goosebumps raised all over his skin and body, his metaphorical hackles rising. Hair on the back of his neck stood up as he released all of his pent up ire in a loud bellow, and he activated the alchemy in his gloves as he released the loud sound.

"RAAAAAAAAAARGGHHHHHH!" The desperate cry tore from his throat as the symbol on the white cloth glowed brightly, the contained area around his hand quickly sucked of everything but oxygen, making it flammable to even the lightest bit of friction. As the roar grew in volume, his pulse racing with the force of his emotions, his perfectly poised fingers gave a light '_snk_' sound, and the oxygen immediately caught the spark, exploding into the standard controlled tongues of flame that danced forward to Mustang's target, except this time it wasn't so controlled.

Yes it went directly to its intended target, but in his fury Mustang didn't control the force and the passion which fueled the blaze extending as an elegantly destructive typhoon from his fingers. By the time his yell dropped off into a croak as his throat dried out and his lungs gasped for air, the vicious spiral of fire was gone. It left behind not a nice, relaxing fire, but rather a smudge of ash that was simply a streak of carbon on the brick - the white hot, scorching flame had burned away even the lingering ash to leave nothing. Mustang stood there, panting, staring at the empty space before him.

He felt an uncomfortable warmth on his cheek, yanking off the glove quickly to see if a stray lick of burning air had reached him, but instead of sizzling flesh, he felt a wet trail making its way down his cheek. Slowly, Mustang slumped to his chair, letting the tears run down his skin, across his hands, and buried his face in his palms. He hadn't cried in who knows how long, in fact he couldn't remember the last time he had broken down and cried. But now, his anger was flushed out of his system, practically evaporating the wood sitting in his fireplace: in its place all that was left was sorrow.

He cried for Ed, the object of his affections, weeping for the pain he was going through. He sobbed heavily into the skin of his hands because he couldn't stand to see Ed in so much agony. He whimpered at the thought of anyone hurting the already traumatized young man. Edward and Alphonse Elric had already lost more than anyone ever should, let alone in their youth. Tears slid down his soft flesh as he shook, slowly calming down as the dampness on his cheeks faltered, slowing to a trickle until all the moisture was gone. The vibrations shaking his muscular frame eased as well, and he relaxed back a bit.

Mustang smirked to himself sadly. Who would have ever thought that the great Roy Mustang, Colonel in the Amestrian army, the renowned Flame Alchemist, would be reduced to sobs over someone else's pain? He stared blankly at the black phone before him, knowing he needed to initiate the call. But whom would he dial first? Sitting and contemplating the choice, he made his decision after a few moments of contemplation. Slowly, he reached for the phone, clearing his voice before dialing the number he had decided on.

"Rockbell automail installation and service! What can I do to help you today?" The cheerful voice of Winry sounded on the other end of the phone. Mustang knew that if Al was in Resembool, then he would be at her place, and it was his luck that there was a phone there. Everyone knew that Al was hopeless for the girl, and to some, those who knew her, it was obvious that she was enthralled by the younger Elric as well, despite his occupancy of a hollow suit of armor. Mustang's voice drawled out more tired than he would have preferred, but the words came out.

"Hello again, Winry. It's Roy Mustang."

"Colonel! It's nice to hear from you, how are you holding up? And how's Ed?" The eager feminine voice echoed from the other end.

"I'm doing... Well, that's irrelevant right now," he said, frowning, not wanting to lie but obviously not able to tell her the truth. "As for Ed, that's why I'm calling. Can you get Alphonse for me?"

The worried reply was halted momentarily by a concerned silence, before the girl's now weak voice came through, "is Ed okay?" She whispered.

Mustang shook his head before realizing he was on the phone, then answered her out loud, "he's holding up, but I really need to talk to Al, please, it's his brother." A small sound of confirmation came through the line, before a request to hold. He heard the undeniable sound of a hand trying to cover the receiver, but it was futile as he heard her yell for Al loud and clear through the ear piece, wincing as the shout pierced his eardrum. Shifting the phone to his other ear, he rubbed the stimulated one nervously as he heard muffled voices on the other line, quiet and discussing. The sound of the phone shifting hands drew his attention once again as Al took the phone in his metal hand.

"Hello? Colonel? Is Brother okay?" The worried, young voice echoing through the armor emerged into Mustang's ear as he took a deep breath.

"Al, you need to stay calm as I tell you, and Winry, I know you're listening, you need to too, alright?" At their confirmations, he coughed softly, readying himself for giving the news to Ed's brother. "Early this morning, I was working on paperwork when I discovered Ed, in the middle of a rainstorm, on my front step. He was battered and bloody, so I carried him inside, his automail falling apart as we walked. His condition was fairly bad to my quick once-over, but the situation was worse than what I assumed.

"Upon further inspection," he said, attempting to remain factual rather than let his emotions get the better of him, "I discovered that there was much wrong that had originally escaped my attention, and when I took him upstairs to clean him up, it only got worse. There was gravel dug into his skin everywhere, cuts and bruises etched into his skin, and he was bleeding, from everywhere I could see. His hair was matted with mud, and patches were raw and bloody from where parts were ripped out, and what's left is choppy and... Strange to say the least. His lip was split and bloody, and the black eye on his left was obvious. A gash ran from his cheekbone to his jaw, strikingly deep, which I had to stitch." At the sharp intake of breath on the other side, he intruded again. "I'm not done, and that's not the worst. His automail had completely fallen off by the time we made it to the shower, and I think he has multiple pulled muscles in his good shoulder, as well as a few broken ribs.

"I saved the worst for last, regrettably. His eye... Ed's eye is gone," he said quietly. "I had to remove his eyelid as well, as there was practically none left..." With that, he went silent, waiting for the response. For a moment, he thought the line went dead from the silence he received. He was about to say something before a quiet male voice spoke up.

"Who did this?" Al asked in a quiet voice, the cadence shaky and far too mature and serious for a boy his age.

"Well, we don't know to be honest. All we know is what Ed is willing to talk about, which isn't much. He says it was multiple men," Mustang said, wondering if he should mention the military affiliation before deciding against it, keeping that information to himself. "But that's all he will divulge for now." The line was quiet again for a moment, before Winry spoke up.

"Alright Colonel. Al is... Yeah, he's not good. We'll be sure to catch the first train. I'll bring a previous model of Ed's automail to install, I know how restless he gets, and how he won't want to rely on you." Mustang sighed in gratitude, listening as she continued, "take care of Ed until we get there, we'll come as fast as we can. I gotta take care of a tin can who's going to have an emotional breakdown now." With that, the line went dead.

Mustang rubbed his forehead, placing the phone back deftly before relaxing back, dreading the next phone call even more. He could nearly handle telling a brother that his only sibling was in some major pain, but letting the entire team know, when everyone cares about the boy in a deep way... This was cruel. Plus he hadn't even finished his paperwork for Riza. He knew she would forgive him, but he still would get an earful. With a groan, he reached for the phone once more, dialing central HQ.

"Central Headquarters, Colonel Roy Mustang's office, this is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye," came the brisk female answer. He hesitated before responding.

"Good morning Lieutenant," he replied with a fake confidence he didn't feel right now. The tone of her voice changed dangerous once she realized it was Roy.

"Colonel, you better have finished that paperwork, it needs to be done. Why are you calling? When are you going to be here?" She barked roughly at him. He winced: only Hawkeye would ever be able to get away with yelling at him like that.

"I didn't get it done Riza, and I won't be coming in today, that's what I called to tell you," he said semi-quietly. The line was quiet and he braced himself.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? YOU HAD A FULL TWELVE HOURS, ROY! THERE WASNT THAT MUCH THERE, YOU HAD THIS SIMPLE JOB BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN PUTTING OFF YOUR PAPERWORK FOR TOO DAMN LONG! NOW I KNOW WHY EDWARD CALLS YOU A BASTARD! I DONT CARE WHAT YOU'RE DOING - YOU'RE GETTING YOUR ASS IN HERE TODAY, AND YOU WILL BRING YOUR COMPLETED PAPERS!" Her voice screamed in Mustang's ear, but this time he wasn't having it.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, shut up and that's an order." She went silent at that, because she knew Mustang never used an order against a member of the team unless it was important. He sighed, then said in a normal voice, "Get the team together, this is something I need to tell you all. Get Hughes as well, this will be something he wants to know."

"Yes sir," she said, and he heard the closing of the door. Before long, gruff voices were fighting for dominance as the room filled with the members of the team, and he addressed them - calling roll in a sort of way - continuing when each acknowledged him.

"Havoc. Falman. Hughes. Hawkeye. Fuery. Breda." Once he was sure they were all there, he cleared his throat. "We have a new case, one very close to home. Last night, Edward Elric appeared on my doorstep, covered in blood." They all gasped and he proceeded to give them the same description he had Al, as his subordinates remained quiet. They all accepted this as a valid reason not to be there today, but they were fuming. Ed was important to them, and they each loved him in their own way. To Hughes, he was like a son, whereas to Havoc he was like a long lost brother. Hawkeye had a sort of maternal outlook over both the brothers, and Falman tended to look up to Ed as role model, while Breda had an easy companionship with him. When he finished, Havoc spoke the same question Al had, but Mustang gave him the full response this time.

"Sir," Havoc said. "Who did this to Edward?"

"Ed says he remembers a group of men assaulting him. I only know the extent of his injuries, but there may be something I missed. The one time he willingly remembered, he also spoke of a statement one had made about him being younger than him and higher on the chain, mentioning something about a slur implying him sleeping his way to where he was," Mustang replied as calmly as he could. "This was enough to raise suspicions as to the occupation of at least that man, but then Ed mentioned a color he saw out of the corner of his eye. Military blue." He stopped, letting the information sink in. "This is a job by someone among our ranks. Begin the investigation as normal, but don't let anyone know that we're working on it. We need to keep this under the radar so the rats we're hunting don't scurry away before we can rip them a new one." A few more questions passed around, mostly ones that no one knew the answer to, before he dismissed them to begin working.

Once he hung up, Mustang pressed his face to the desk. He could tell this was going to be a pain in the ass, and he had a feeling that earlier wouldn't be his only break down. In his heart, though he swore to himself that they would find the men responsible and make them pay.

He would burn them where they stood.

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**Yay! Soon very soon we shall discover what happened to our dear sweet damaged Ed. You guys might hate me... Poor Ed... Beware, there will be tears sucked from you! Thank you all for reviews last chapter! BloodstainedHipbones, Guest, and Pale-blue11! I love you guys I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Keep R&amp;R'ing! Stay tuned for next chapterrrr!**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	7. Chapter 7: Alchemy Trials

**alright guys, so I think I've figured out an update pattern that I can hopefully continue for the foreseeable future. I'll do my best! I'll write a chapter one night, send it to my lovely, amazing, brilliant, and spectacular Beta (pale-blue11) to do the do they do at the zoo with it the next day, and post it that night. I'll take a day off to relax, then write the next day. And so on and so forth. So if it follow this pattern, I should get an update out every 3 days! Barring unforseen circumstances, that is. So yay! Expect around 20-25 chapters for this fic, guys! Heehee BTW you may think finding out what happened to Ed is going to be the climax, but you're WRONG! the climax is much more dramatic. Mwahaha it'll be around 8-12 more chapters before I hit that point. Then the falling action, etc. But anyway, here we go! The build up to the anticipated moment! Which will be next chapter! Heh heh.**

**Triggers for some graphic imagery in the gore category (throw up, basically) also, eating disorder. **

**SHOUT OUT TO REVIEWERS LAST CHAPTER: pale-blue11 (best Beta ever), Emily Rodriguez (on guest review), Aozora-san (dude I just love the name), and 2 other guests (I wonder if one of you is the same that has been reviewing every chapter...)! Love you all my dears! Everyone else, I'd love to hear from you as well! Please review! Flames, compliments, and constructive criticism gladly accepted. **

CHAPTER 07

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Slowly, Mustang dragged himself back to a sitting position, and hastily slammed up his mental walls once more: he needed to be strong for Ed. Relatively easily — though not as easily as usual — he slid into his mask, a calm demeanor settling across his features. Inside, his emotions still broiled like an oncoming typhoon, threatening to destroy him, but unless you looked closely at his eyes, you would never know. A war raged within him, a fight between his longing to gaze into those molten bronze eyes, to lose himself within the fire of the young man, and to protect him at all costs, to help Ed on his road to recovery. The two could coexist, Mustang supposed, but not currently.

The battle was easily won when he realized that the depths of Ed's eyes were gone, the smoldering amber reduced to muted earth, a color beautiful in its own right, but lacking the luster of that special something that made him who he was. Not to mention, one of those magnificent eyes were gone for good. Mustang shook himself back into reality, determined to help Ed get better, to make sure the fiery light that burned within the young alchemist would be rekindled, to renew the spirit within him. With a newfound determination, Mustang stood and trekked back into the kitchen where he had left Ed not a half an hour ago. When he neared the room, however, he heard soft sobbing and a soft sound of metal on wood, the quiet scritch scritch breaking through his thoughts once again. Gently, Mustang opened the door a crack, making sure not to make a sound and disturb the activity that was occurring therein. What he saw made his newfound resolve crumble away in hurt for the boy balancing on one knee on the kitchen floor.

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A faint shadow was creeping on the edge of Ed's vision. It wasn't anything technically real, just a simple trick his mind played, giving him so-called "tunnel vision" in his state of trauma and anxiety, not to mention the lack of depth perception and perspective from his lost eye. As soon as Mustang left the room to make his calls, Ed set down his fork. The food was delicious, he had to admit. The man knew how to cook, he'd give him that much. However, his stomach was doing flip-flops, and not in a good way. Food wasn't agreeing with him at all, and he knew he didn't want to keep it down anyway. It tasted wonderful, but he didn't want food. He wanted to stop being a burden, and he slid off the stool to limp to the sink.

His stomach was churning, repulsed by the food, but he couldn't heave it up. No matter how hard Ed tried, it wouldn't leave his stomach, even as he willed it with all his strength to come up. He didn't want this food, he believed the life giving energy was wasted on him. The waste of space, the one who couldn't even protect himself from a bunch of men who... He couldn't even bring himself to think about the acts they had forced upon him.

Ed swallowed thickly, the taste of bile heavily planted in his mouth, the acrid flavor leaving him retching even harder. How was he supposed to protect Al, he wondered, when he couldn't even stop his attackers? For all the alchemy he knew, for all the strength in his metal arm, he was weak, and he was helpless at the hands of a bunch of envious jerks. Wanting to remove the taste from his mouth, he swept a finger through the cavern, trying to smear away the repulsive tang in his mouth. However, when his finger brushed towards the back of his throat, he felt his stomach open slightly, and a bit of fluid came up as he heaved this time at the sensation. With a sad smile to no one, showing how defeated he was, how lonely, how disgusting he felt, he tried again, this time pushing his finger down towards his throat rougher.

He barely got his hand out of the way as his gut wrenched and the entire meal came spewing out into the coll stainless steel basin. He choked and gushed as hurl after hurl escaped him, waves of sick leaving his throat as his body reacted to the gag reflex activation and rejected all the food he had consumed just moments ago.

Ed slowly pressed his head against the chilled metal, relief washing over him as his stomach calmed. The food was gone, no longer wasted on the waste of space, and, he noticed, the taste of bile was gone, replaced by the almost comforting (in this instance) flavor of stomach acid and sweet food. Ed basked in the absence of bile in his mouth momentarily, before the putrid flavor registered with him, and the pungent smell wafted to him from his waste.

Quickly, he rinsed the sink, eliminating all the evidence of his purging, then washed his mouth out with water quickly. The smell remained, so he lit a stick of incense that was sitting on the window sill with a lighter sitting close at hand.

The sight of the flame brought another realization to the forefront of his groggy, pain-hazed mind. The fire reminded him of Mustang and his Flame alchemy, making him wonder about his own. He knew he could perform alchemy one-handed. He had done so when he faced that lunatic Barry the Chopper, so he knew that even without his automail arm, he could activate a circle as long as he drew it correctly. In his mind, though, he wondered if he could even use his alchemy anymore.

The basis of the use of alchemy, Ed knew, was control of energy in the body. However, as in tune with his body as the boy was, he could tell that there was more than a little wrong with his energy. In his wrecked state, he wouldn't be able to control it, and somewhere inside him, Ed knew that. Nevertheless, he still was determined to try. He knew Mustang wouldn't appreciate random transmutation circles drawn or etched in his tabletop, but Ed realized with a smirk that he could do it without the top. Slowly, he maneuvered himself so that he kneeled on the floor, balancing on his one knee, and sat back so his butt was propped against his heel as a leverage point. Carefully, and with perfect precision, he managed to turn the table over on the ground. He grabbed a knife that Mustang had given him for the pancakes and gazed at the wood. Simple, he thought. Simple would be best. Tapping his chin, he contemplated what to begin with before deciding on a change of shape to the organic material, one of the most basic alchemy circles and one of the easiest transmutations he knew. Normally he didn't need a transmutation circle, since he could adjust the flow of his energy in the blink of an eye to the shape of any alchemical array he knew, which was how he transmuted without a physical array. This was an act he did subconsciously, so he hadn't used a physical circle very much in practice. However, he always liked to make sure he could quickly and accurately form them, so he kept his memory sharp by drawing them by hand every day. With an ease that could come only from years of practice drawing arrays, the alchemical symbol was carved into the rough mahogany (nothing a little alchemy couldn't fix later, he mused).

Ed let his eyes — or rather, his eye — slide shut, allowing himself to feel the energy within him. He could almost see the threads coursing through him, in fact he could actually visualize the icy blue veins of alchemy winding around his body. As he withdrew within himself, the colors and the lines became clearer. He could see every break, every waver in his body. Then, as he watched, several points would slowly quiver and then be swallowed up by black. In his mind's eye, Ed was watching almost as a casual observer as he saw himself be tainted by the touch of his attackers. Sections winked out as he watched, and a feeling of dread grew in the pit of his stomach.

He began trying to gather his energy as he used to, intending to perform this alchemical act with the cracked and imbalanced energy he collected. As the black feeling spread from his gut around his body, Ed prayed for the first time in his life. He prayed to every god he knew of, from the omnipotent being the people of Ishbal worshipped to the pantheon of deities in the Xingese religion, to the Drachman figures he had only heard about. He pleaded with every higher being he knew of, especially the Gate, that this would work.

Once he gathered what he thought was enough shattered, broken, weakening energy he could muster, his eyes shot open, and he pressed his hand to the array etched onto the wood. Blue sparked all around him, small bolts of the glowing energy spitting all around him, and the circle glowed brightly. Rays of the ice blue aura that was his life force shone from the lines carved shallowly into the bottom of the table, and his heart leapt for a split second in hope that this would work, until it was crushed under a realization. A slight metallic tang filled the air, but the light fizzled out, and Ed stared at an unchanged piece of wood. He hadn't affected it at all.

Warm tears rolled down the contours of his face as he etched an even simpler array into the wood, repeating the process in the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, it would work.

It didn't.

He tried again and again, each time making the design simpler and simpler, working himself into more of a frenzy as he sobbed quietly, going faster until he had etched into the — now mottled — surface the one array he never thought to use again, the very first one his father had ever shown him, as a child. He was gasping for breath, not realizing until now that he was hyperventilating, staring with his one good eye at the simplest circle he knew, his last hope. Gathering his energy, he forced his breath to calm. Mustering up all the force he had to spare, he activated the circle.

Nothing.

Curling up into a ball, he clutched his knee tightly through the layers of warm cloth. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't use his alchemy. The one thing that never failed him had abandoned him, completely and utterly.

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Mustang watched with sorrow as Ed deflated, all semblance of the will to live dropping from his features as he failed to activate the transmutation array. Silently as he could, he slipped into the room. He knew he couldn't just sit by and watch Ed wreck himself like this, but there was nothing he could do for him except comfort the youth — and even that, he suspected, wouldn't be much help. Making his way to the trembling form, Mustang reached out and laid a gentle hand on the ailing young man's back.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to do.

A soul-rending scream ripped through the air, and it took a moment for Mustang to register that it was coming from Ed. The boy threw himself back, cowering from the older alchemist's touch.

"P-please... Not again..." Ed's eyes were full of tears, both shed and pooling. He flattened himself against the wall, seeming to try to merge himself with it, shaking heavily and whimpering, "for God's sake... Haven't you done enough? You've taken everything..." From the expression of terror on the boy's face, he knew that he wasn't seeing the Flame, but rather one of his attackers before him. His gaze narrowed, though, at his words. Taken everything? That came from somewhere that he knew was broken, and Mustang now knew he needed to get the truth. His gaze softened, however, as he watched the trembling boy, now curled in the corner, screeching and sobbing. Slowly, he inched towards the wounded and traumatized youth, wrapping his arms around him.

Ed tensed under Mustang's touch at first, drawing even further away and his pleas grew louder. However, his eye began to clear of the cloud that had overtaken it, and after a few tense, agony and fear-filled moments, he relaxed visibly.

"C-colonel?" Ed whispered, staring at his superior as if he was some sort of angel. Mustang just nodded, and the boy sobbed harder, this time clinging to the shirt of the Flame. Mustang pulled him into his arms, rocking him in his lap softly, whispering words of comfort to calm the shaking, crying boy, as he petted the ragged hair. The soft strands glided through his fingers, the soft touch being enough to calm the beast of terror running rampant through Ed. The tears slowly stopped and the trembling stilled as his grip loosened on the now salty, drenched white shirt that Mustang bad donned that morning.

Mustang looked down at the small frame fondly, smiling at him, and the smile was genuine. He was truly glad that Ed had calmed even fractionally. The smile died, however, as he saw Ed's gaze. If it was possible, the empty stare had an even more dead pit behind it than the night before. Concern welled within him, but he knew that he needed to know what had happened.

"Ed..." He began.

"No, I can't... Colonel, I know... You're going to ask... But I just, I- I- I... I can't..." Ed squeezed his eye shit, shaking his head. Mustang sighed, not wanting to pry, but there wasn't any room for error in this investigation, and it was time to get the truth.

"Ed, listen. I know it's hard, and I know that you will hurt during this, and that's the last thing I want, alright? I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't absolutely essential. I hate that I have to ask you to recall it, but if we're going to catch the bastards responsible for this, then I need to know exactly what happened." Mustang had shifted subconsciously to cradle Ed closer, stroking his cheek with his thumb as he spoke. A shudder ran down Ed's spine without him realizing, and though he was shaking his head, the concession was evident in the broken, hollow eye.

"Sir, why do you care even, it's not like I matter that much. Don't trouble yourself... I'm not worth it." At Ed's broken words, a low growl escaped Mustang's throat. For one, Edward never called him Sir. For another, his words horrified Mustang.

"Edward Elric, you listen to me. You're worth everything, okay? You were hurt. You aren't worthless. And no natter how brash or rude I act, I care, okay?" He wanted to confess more, but he knew this wasn't the time nor place nor scenario to blurt out his feelings. "You're one of my team. If this had happened to Riza, or Jean, or Maes, or anyone else, you would act the same." Ed winced, but nodded, the resignation evident in his eye, as well as fear at the upcoming tale. "Now, tell me what happened, Ed." Ed nodded and looked at his hands.

In a quiet voice, just loud enough for Mustang to hear, he began recounting the tale.

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**Alright guys, get ready for some major pain next chapter! I'm posting this now, but I'm sending it to my Beta (pale-blue11) tonight, so if she has changes I'll just repost the chapter with the edits. If not, see you in three days!**

**Stop reading this authors note if you don't want to hear about the depression and musings of an author with major issues.**

**I just want to say guys, I love that even anyone is taking a moment to read this, let alone get invested in it. This story has become my coping mechanism for my life, and its wonderful to have so many people enjoy something you have created. When I'm at my worst, like lately, I look to your comments and reviews. Honestly, I have run out of room on my legs to cut as of late, and I'm on the highest dosage of anti depressants and anti anxiety meds that they can legally give me, and they still don't do as much as we wish they would. The scars covering my thighs, overlapped by fresh scabbing slices are honestly hideous, but it's the only thing I know. I don't want to start branching out to other appendages so I honestly rely on writing this and reading your guyses feedback to keep me sane. Yeah when a spot opens again I'm sure it'll be covered immediately with more fresh blood, but your devotion is what keeps me from moving to my calves, my arms, and everywhere else. I have ultra low self esteem, branching from childhood trauma, and honestly having people read and enjoy this is one of the few things I pride myself on, and I can feel confident for a moment any time I read any of your wonderful comments and feedback. **

**I love you all too much to imagine, even if you don't talk to me. Keep reading my dears! So long for now.**

**also! Happy late Valentine's Day! Here's a poem I wrote while doing a project on Vladimir Putin!**

**====Roses are Red====**

**====Violets are Blue====**

**====We just passed Vladentines Day====**

**====But I'm still Putin the Moves on You====**

**In the name of Edward, Alphonse and the Bastard Colonel.**

**Amen.**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	8. Chapter 8: Agonizing Night

**FUCK IT. I have it finished, its been Beta'd, I'm posting this chapter. Fuck my update schedule, the anticipation needs to end. And I need to break some hearts here, like seriously. So here is the chapter of discovery in which I finally tell yo guys what happened to Ed, and beware, it's pretty damn intense. Also, I had people ask last chapter how they ruined Ed's alchemy. The intention wasn't that they caused him to lose it, it was supposed to be that they broke his spirit so much that his energy flow became interrupted, as well as his control over it. That way, his alchemy still remained technically intact, while he simply lost his ability to use it because of what happened to break him so much. Anyway, this chapter is waaaaay longer than the rest, don't expect this long of chapters normally, okay? I just needed to get all this out, and it flowed out well.**

**Thank you for all the outpouring of love and concern over my last authors note, you all are complete dears. I didn't expect even close to that much concern, and I just want to say thank you for your support. I love you all forever and ever!**

**TRIGGER WARNING! VIOLENCE, ABUSE, SWEARING, ETC. DONT READ IF YOU CANT HANDLE! ALSO, THERES ANOTHER TRIGGER IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS CHAPTER, BUT I WANT IT TO BE A SURPRISE, GUYS. IT WILL, HOWEVER, BE TAGGED INSIDE THE STORY SO DONT WORRY. **

**SHOUT OUT TO REVIEWERS LAST CHAPTER! Aozora-san, your pm was lovely. Pale-blue11, thank you as usual dear for beta'ing and reviewing every chapter! Emily Rodriguez, you should get an account so we can talk! And Guest, I suppose I already answered your question. :3**

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CHAPTER 08

Thunder echoed down the streets of Central, bouncing off of brick walls, the sound hollow and foreboding. The slight drizzle that had begun hours before had steadily increased, now a torrential downpour of rain, the paved roads becoming a river. Though the hour was early, the streets were void of any pedestrians, the sky black with the cumulonimbus clouds imposed on the backdrop. The only sounds heard were the deafening roar of thunder, the screaming whistle of the wind, and the drearily loud _SSSSCCCHHHHHHHH_ of rain on pavement. The clouds were so dark that one couldn't see two feet before oneself, as it was not yet late enough for the street lamps to turn on. The only light was a faint glow from under curtains dotted here and there, and the occasional strike of lightning arching across the obsidian expanse of the sky above.

This was the dank atmosphere through which a lone figure trekked down Main Street, red coat waterlogged from the buckets dripping down from the heavens. The loner's hair was flattened from the rain, the gold braid sucked tight to the back of the jacket, small sprig of hair — normally sprouting so tall from the front of his head — sliding down his face, clinging to his cheek. Hands were buried deep inside his pockets, silken amber eyes cast towards his feet as he walked the path he had traveled so many times; he could be blind and still know the way. Dejected from yet another day of fruitless research in the military library on his day off, his shoulders were hunched and his normally confident stride faltered as the tall boots he had donned sloshed through the puddles and streams of rainwater, toes dragging as he made his way toward home. A long, depressed sigh dragged from the man's lips, wrought from years of a short, hard life full of anguish and despair — a life that had beaten the young alchemist down, pulled him through the mud, and left him to pick up the pieces.

Yes, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, dog of the military, hero of the people, had seen more than enough tragedy for anyone, let alone someone of his young eighteen years. His research of the Philosopher's Stone still had yielded no hints as to its true nature or the location of the fabled alchemic miracle. Ed adjusted his automail shoulder. The cold and the dampness was penetrating every fiber of his being, making the metal and wires — embedded into his skin, connected to his nerves — ache to the very core, the soreness deep seated in his body. His leg hurt just as much, and he wished he had left earlier when the rain had just begun, instead of thinking that it would stop before he wanted to leave. Instead, the gentle sprinkle had exploded into a soaking abyss of cold and wet. He grumbled to himself as the metal joints creaked, slowly trudging through the dismal scene. Slowly, he looked up, molten gold eyes observing where exactly he was.

He stood in front of the baker's shop, the building looming and abysmal over his head, an alley branching out just ahead of him. Across the street was the one-cenz store, its small lamp flickering and depressing in the dark scene. Ed's eyes traveled around the dark expanse of road, noting the dank area, before they locked once more on the alley. He knew it was a shortcut to his home, but something in his gut told him not to. He shook his head, thinking it was just the creepy lighting and foreboding atmosphere that was setting him off. All he wanted to do was get home and dry off, cuddling underneath the down comforter, falling asleep to the warmth encompassing him. Sure, Al wasn't there since he had left two days prior to visit Winry in Resembool, but it would be peaceful and dry.

One other thing made him pause, however, before heading down the narrow, winding dirt path. This particular alleyway went past the home of his superior officer, Colonel Roy Mustang. At one of the intersections between this dark and harrowing path was Mustang's house, the sprawling building on the corner of the alley and Brumming Avenue. There was a chance that as Ed slunk by, Mustang would be outside his not-so-humble abode, probably smoking a cigarette, and right now, Ed just wanted to be home in the embrace of his sheets. He didn't want to deal with the bastard right now. Staring down the entrance, he saw the point about ten feet in where it snaked away from his vision, and mused quietly about the one man who held any direct, real power over him.

He cursed himself that he was very aware of the Colonel's handsome visage, since he hated the man with everything he had. The bastard treated Ed like shit, always condescending and on the verge of cruel to the young alchemist. Sure, he had taught Ed a whole lot about alchemy, and gave him quite a bit of freedom. Okay, and he gave him mainly the missions he wanted, helping out as much as possible on his quest for the Philosopher's Stone, and knew about what happened with Ed's mother, and the boys' failed attempt to bring her back. But still, the man was probably on the very edge of evil, and Ed didn't want to see his well-cut image any time soon. Figuring the hydrophobic maniac would probably never come out in the rain anyway, Ed yanked himself away from his musings about the man and started down the alley. It was darker than he thought, and he was quickly out of view of the road. As the alley widened slightly, weaving and dodging between buildings, the feeling of dread grew in his stomach, but he refused to turn back, determined to reach his bed.

That's when his automail arm was wrenched behind his back, disabling the strong limb. Ed hissed in pain, feeling several of the nerve connections ripped apart, and turned to hit whoever had grabbed him. However, before he could move an inch, his other arm was seized, locking him in place, and his metal leg was yanked in the same fashion as his arm, disabling him nearly completely. Whoever was attacking him knew exactly how to go at the task, he realized, and had probably been planning this for some time. By the time he got his flesh leg up to lash out, there was a searing pain in his upper thigh, and a weight grabbed onto it.

Ed discovered in panic that he was completely immobilized, rendered defenseless. He swore loudly, thrashing and fighting with everything he had, but to no avail as the rain poured down, slowing his movements and rendering his thrashing useless. His body was in panic mode, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he screamed for help, for anyone to come and free him. To his despair, however, the rain and thunder drowned out his cries, and in his weakened state he tired quickly, his fighting slowing and eventually dissipating altogether as the adrenaline was burned up. His throat ached from screaming, torn to shreds, but he kept it up, futilely pleading with air to help him, for anyone to come to his rescue.

The pleas abruptly stopped when a fist, powered by layers of toned muscle, collided with his mouth, cutting off the screech. The hands dropped him, and Ed dropped to the ground, rolling onto his stomach, where Ed pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He spat on the ground, and realized a tooth went with the saliva, the iron taste of blood permeating his taste buds. Running his tongue across his lips, he winced as the rough texture of the muscle ran across a split in his lip, wide and deep, as more blood poured out of the rip. Before he could think, though, a foot collided with his side, knocking the air out of him, leaving him gasping for breath as his hearing finally tuned in on the voices around him. Male voices, and in his delirium he still had enough of a mind to count six separate voices, all arguing.

"Let me!"

"No, I want to!"

He wasn't sure what else was said, as suddenly more booted feet were connecting with his body, bruising and abusing his flesh. Before long, the white hot pain seared through every inch of his body, the dull thuds echoing around his bones and muscle. Any hope of fighting back or escaping the men had fled him completely. Hands tore his rumpled, wet jacket from his body, leaving him in just his leather trousers and tank top. One of the men laughed.

"Leather, eh? I guess that's what Mustang wanted you to wear when you paid with your body," a deep voice that resonated with authority growled, before a knife slid along his flesh arm, slicing into the skin as it moved, sending flecks of white across Ed's vision. He supposed, somewhere inside of him, that this must be the leader. The words the man said registered somewhere, but he couldn't comprehend what the man was insinuating. Other hands began raking at his body, nails scratching at his flesh as knives began flaying small bits of skin open. The man rolled him on his back, and suddenly there was a great pressure on his chest, and in the dark he could see blue cloth hanging over him, and his golden, pained eyes met green ones above him.

This was the wrong move on Ed's part and the man yelled in his damp face, saliva spraying across his cheeks, as the man screamed at him, "DO NOT THINK SUCH A FUCKING SLUT CAN LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" A vicious backhand met Ed's cheek. "YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF MEETING MY GAZE," the man sprayed at him. In that moment, a large thumb pressed to Ed's left eye.

"Fucking slut. Fucking kid." He heard the voice grate on his ear as the pressure in his skull increased, appendages tearing at his body, but he could only feel one, burning at the forefront of his mind, as a harsh thumb dug into the depths of his eye socket. "How does a fucking kid get higher up on the chain than me?" The voice growled, and a scream tore from Ed's lips as a distinct POP sounded, and agony ripped across his face, momentarily making him pass out, but not before a flash of now obviously military blue dragged in the dark on the edge of his darkening vision.

Another spark of pain in his face dragged him back into consciousness, now only able to see out of one eye. He realized that his clothes now had holes and tears all across them, his skin raw and bleeding as the rain poured onto him. The pain in his cheek, he realized, was a dagger, dragging down his cheekbone, separating the flesh into two as it cut a burning line down his skin.

The pain sent Ed over the top, and suddenly he felt as if he was floating, still aware of the pain being inflicted upon his body, but not altogether actually feeling it. It was almost as if he had gone numb, retreating into his mind as his body was abused. He felt his mentality cracking, falling apart at the seams. He wondered why he couldn't defend himself, even with all his years of practicing, training, becoming the best he could. Absentmindedly, he realized that he really was just the piece of shit that the Colonel treated him as, the knowledge that he couldn't even help himself let alone the citizens or his brother searing through him worse than any blade or bludgeon could. He felt himself begin to break, but he refused to acknowledge it, resisting, holding himself together just barely. He didn't register the faint sound of zippers falling, or uniforms dragging down skin.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**DO NOT READ THE NEXT PART IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY SEXUAL ASSAULT, PLEASE! SPECIFICALLY RAPE!**

**I'll put another note in when it's over.**

**XxXxXxXxX**

He was forced back into his body completely outside of his own will as a new sensation gripped him. Ed was being forced onto his stomach, and gravel dug its way into his face, across his split lip and into his mouth. Before he could spit out the filth, however, his hips were dragged up in the air, wind rippling across his backside as he realized his pants were torn to shreds. The cool drip of the rain was slightly relieving to him — that is, until a hard object pressed to his exit, and his eyes slammed shut as the force increased.

Air tore through his lips in a soul-shattering scream as a hard, hot organ forced its way inside him. Ed felt as if he was being ripped in half, the quiet moans of, "fuck yes nnngh so tight," lost on his ears as he was torn. The sensation only grew worse as the man ripped deeper and deeper inside him, unprepared so that not even the rain helped lubricate even a little bit. Tears mingled with the rain as Ed felt the last bit of sanity he had slip away with his virginity, the portion of himself he had collected — fortified from breaking with the beating — shattering into a thousand pieces at the too-personal intrusion.

Ed simply went limp as the man gripped his hair, now choppy from how the men had disregarded where it was as they sliced at his flesh, the knives still cutting into his back as the one who had caused the blackness in his right eye slammed inside of him hard and fast. He felt the hair rip from his head as he felt himself be torn open inside again and again, the pain in his head nothing compared to that in his core. Ed's jaw fell open, no longer in control of his body as the man plowed into him — another mistake on his part, which he added to his mental list of fuck-ups he had made tonight — and something hot was in his mouth. His eye fluttered open, horrified at yet another intrusion, and was met by coarse hair scratching at his one good orb. The eye closed again at the abrasive strands, but now he knew what was in his mouth.

Hot, rough muscles slammed into him from behind and from in front. The member in front of him shoved down his throat, unrelenting, as the one in his ass suddenly stopped, and a heat filled Ed. The man moaned lewdly as he released inside him, even as the one in his mouth shoved harder. Ed struggled to breath as the muscle ripped down his already abused throat from when he had screamed, lungs gasping for air at every withdraw until a slimy substance oozed down Ed's throat and suddenly the object was gone, leaving him empty and ravaged on the ground. He felt a hot thick liquid sliding down his legs, and if he could see it he knew it would be a dark pink, hot seed and his own blood mixing in a putrid display. He coughed towards the ground, sputtering and hacking up the foul liquid from his throat as he lay there, thinking it was over at last.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Without hesitation, there was another man behind him, thrusting in harshly. Ed didn't even care at this point, he just wanted to die. He assumed that this was the worst it could get — another thing he added to his list of mistakes — before he screamed once more as another of the men breached his already torn up rear, and they began thrusting consecutively, never giving him a rest. He had thought nothing of the other men who had attacked him when he thought it had been over. He hung limply like a rag doll as they used him roughly, and his brain reminded him of the last two of the six men, right before another hot appendage was shoved in his mouth. Ed had the urge to bite, but his strength was so far gone at this point he couldn't even add miniscule pressure with his jaw.

One of the two inside his ass took this opportunity to grab Ed's flaccid dick, but not in a way one would like. His nails dug into the sensitive member, bruising it and gripping it hard, squeezing in the most utmost painful way possible. The other man caught on, reaching around to give the same treatment to Ed's swinging sac. That's when the last man saw his opportunity and joined in, by in a way he had never imagined would happen. The man shoved his hot rod inside the oozing eye socket in his face, abusing the already aching pit. Ed had a twisted, yet somehow horrifyingly entertaining thought as he did so, even as he felt himself being ripped, abused, slammed into — the man in his face was so small he could almost fit his entire length inside Ed's eye, or rather, lack thereof.

Descending into chaos, his kind went blank as the broken man was ravaged by these men, every inch of his most private areas being abused, the pain numbing his mind even as it ripped through him. There were no thoughts in his mind as he stared blankly at the back of his eyelid, his body being pounded, destroyed by these men he didn't know. Before long, one groan was heard, followed closely by more as heat poured once again inside him, and he felt it drip out of every orifice, down his left cheek and into the stinging folds that had been ripped by a knife along his cheekbone. The pulsing organs were slowly removed, leaving Ed collapsed on the ground.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**Alright, it's over now. It's safe to read again, just a bit more gore to go, a few insults.**

**XxXxXxXxX**

A grunt was heard from his right, and his hair was yanked, lifting his head so that his gaze was met by the same eyes as before, except this time his one eye was bleak and dead, meeting the stare as the other man cackled quietly.

"That's how you can look at me, whore. Now I know what Mustang sees in you, Elric," he sneered at him. "You're a real good fuck, kid." A flash of lightning illuminated a blade next to his face. "I'll leave you with one last present," the man said, sounding bored. This time Ed heard the zippers as the rest fixed their uniforms, preparing to leave. His observations were cut short as the eyelid over the empty, abused eye socket was pulled out, and the blade by his face was shoved through it. He yelped, then the blade was gone, the man standing. He could still feel the cruel men inside him, abusing him. He faintly heard a few laughs and a go ahead from the man who had spoken to him before more thuds echoed around the alley, feet landing on him once more.

Rough nails etched themselves deeply into Ed's skin, dragging bloody, torn lines across the supple flesh. A pained groan escaped his lips, and he felt hands all over him, digging at him, and he felt more of these men than he ever wanted to feel of anyone. A kick slammed into his face, and he hissed in pain. The men beat him for a little longer, and he slowly felt himself ignore the new pain. He had had enough, and had blocked out everything that was happening to him. He didn't even register when they stopped, and splashes were heard as the men walked away from him.

Ed laid there for a long time, even though he couldn't remember how long. To him, it could have been a few minutes, hours, or even a few days, he wouldn't know. All he could feel was the rain washing away the evidence of what they had done, the deep seated ache in his butt, and the agony of his body. Slowly, though, his thoughts grew back on track, and he found himself wondering how he would survive. An idea formed itself, and he mustered all the strength he had left to slowly, agonizingly, drag himself forward with his human arm, pushing weakly with his leg as he inched forward.

It was an eternity later when he reached his destination. Not long before, he had wanted to avoid this house, not wanted to see the man who occupied it, but right now it was his best bet. He hoped to god he was home and not staying late at the office, or upstairs with some random woman in his bed as Ed yanked himself up the front stairs to Mustang's door, and barely got his hand up to knock three times on the wooden door, before dropping his hand, curling up on the stoop. He waited and waited for an answer, but when none came for a few minutes, he gave up and relaxed down, ready to die. His body was trembling, and the tears he didn't realize were still there slid warmly down his face. He barely noticed when the door creaked open and a gasp came, a cracking voice whispering as he took in the sight of the broken boy in front of him, one word registering in his mind.

"Edward?" Roy Mustang's voice came, before Ed passed out from pain.

**XxXxXxXxXx**

"And I think you know the rest of the story better than me," Ed whispered quietly. Horror, disgust, and fear ripped through Mustang as he processed what the boy had just told him. The emotions turned to rage as he thought, and he knew he was going to kill them. Shaking, he hugged Ed close, burying his face in the youth's hair. The words he spoke were the most honest he had ever uttered in his life.

"I'm going to avenge what happened to you, Ed. I promise."

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

**Alright guys please tell me how I did. Let me know if I made you cry! I would appreciate any words from any of you, flames compliments questions anything! We're building up ever so slowly to even bigger events, so hang with me guys!**

**Also, have any of you noticed my chapter titles? I have been trying to keep them to 2 words, and was wondering if anyone noticed.**

**Thank you all who outpoured their love and concern after last chapter, just know that I am doing a lot better just knowing that people out there care and enjoy my writing. I love you all, keep R&amp;R'ing! The sky is blue today, the sun is out. Figuratively and metaphorically. Like, my life is in a nice spot for once, and there's sunshine outside for the first time in a while. Anyway, leave me a review!**

**Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan**


	9. Chapter AN: SORRRRYYYYYY

_**hey guys! I'm so sorry, I know i said it would only be a few days, but it's been like two, three weeks. I know you all were hoping this would be an update as well, but it's just not wanting to happen right now.**_

_**My depression is flaring up big time, as well as my dissociation is now swinging into full gear, and I'm trying to focus on myself.**_

_**BTW, I'm 18 now! My birthday was February 20th! Crazy! I'm an adult! **_

_**My gf and I broke up, sadly. :/ but alas, life is life. I have a date in few weeks! **_

**_School is driving me zany, and I'm super stressed and I need to apply for my community college still. My FAFSA has been approved though!_**

**_My Mustang cosplay should be coming in any day, so I will probably change the cover pic for the story to a pic of me as Mustang temporarily when that occurs. :) I'll also post pics on my writing blog on Tumblr._**

**_Also, the biggest reason that I haven't been writing is that I've had a massive case of writer's block. I know what I want to happen, basically Roy is gonna get pissed and rage a bit, then talk to the team, and the investigation is gonna get more intense, but IT JUST WON'T COME OUT OF ME! No matter what I do, it just doesn't want to be written, and I'm stuck. I know exactly where this is going next as well, I just can't seem to write this next bit, and I'm so sorry, I really want to write it, but it refuses._**

**_*sigh*_**

**_Anyway, in the meantime, and to hopefully get me past this writer's block, I'm going to start another story, not my little trashy gay Fanfic that I usually write, this one's going to have NO PAIRINGS! O.O I know, it's a miracle. It'll be focused on Maes. It's not going to be as long as most of my fics but it'll be substantial. Maybe ten chapters? But I won't neglect this, I'll keep trying to get my thoughts out, and hopefully sooner rather than later, this will continue, and I'll work on both projects at the same time._**

**_I love you all I promise! You keep me sane and in decent condition. I'll see you hopefully in my other fic (rated M to be safe, there's not going to be smut but other shit may occur) if you choose to check it out, it's a concept I've been toying with for a while and I hope you like it and it turns out well. And optimistically, I'll see you soon in the next chapter here!_**

**_Hugs and Kisses! ~Meghan_**

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**_P.S. Hetalia is amazing. My Denmark cosplay should be here within a month or two XD_**

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**_P.P.S. please follow my writing blog? Tags are active, and submits and asks are open to you guys! Dexterousduo!_**


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